


Rest

by CrystalRebellion



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Lotor rests, Rest, at last, emotional realizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalRebellion/pseuds/CrystalRebellion
Summary: After millennia of looking over his shoulder, defending and protecting himself, Lotor finally lets his shields fall and allows himself to rest in the comfort of another, causing them both to consider precisely how deep their feelings run. Post-Season 5.  (Lotor x Allura) One-shot.





	Rest

The screen flashed in front of her, but Allura’s mind was elsewhere.  Her eyes slid sideways, glancing to the still-steaming cup of tea.  Coran had brought the beverage in an effort to calm her nerves.  A smile laced her lips at the man’s thoughtfulness, though the drink remained untouched.

Perhaps she had managed to project an aura of fastidious command to her Paladins, but there was no hiding her uneasiness from someone who knew her so well.    _Or perhaps I am not as invulnerable as I had hoped,_ she thought with a grimace.  Lance was catching on.  He had openly commented on how she seemed less energetic than usual during the last training session.  Allura hoped she had dismissed his suspicions under the claims of lack of sleep.  Her excuse was not entirely deceitful… she was just reticent to articulate the reason _why_.

That was the truth of it – Lance was _correct_.

She exhaled, leaning her head back into the plethora of pillows behind her.

It had been over a movement – or had it been _two?_ – since she had last seen Lotor. Emperor-related duties had called him into the heart of his Empire, and while the Castleship and the Voltron Force were never far, there were some matters politically that were better advanced without the presence of what had once been a rebel force in direct opposition to Zarkon. 

Her brow knitted as she looked back to the screen in her lap.

A swipe of her finger flipped between news reports, her eyes skimming for anything that might indicate his whereabouts or well-being.  Quintants ago, he had given a rousing rally speech in an effort to bring some of the fractured spires of his Empire back under his control, but since there had been no reports nor sightings.

She chewed on her bottom lip worriedly.  The Voltron Force had placed him on his throne – what kind of defender would they be if they couldn’t help him keep it? _What if something happened to him?_

The icy pang that shot through her chest stole her breath and she crushed the idea down swiftly, unable to contemplate how very real an assassination attempt could be.

“I must find him,” she murmured.  “I’ll go mad if I have to wait any longer for news.”

Allura started to set the data pad on the bedside table next to the tea when her door opened without warning.  Her eyes widened in shock and she froze, barely breathing.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Lotor stood in the doorway, glancing around her room carefully, as if unsure if he were welcome in the princess’s private chambers.  He looked behind him as the door swished closed, plunging the royal dyad into privacy.

The _click_ of the instrument she held coming to rest on the tabletop drew his attention back to the regal woman before him.  Allura’s eyes traced over him rapidly, searching for any sign of injury, harm or damage.

To her relief, she found none. 

What she did find was how unerringly _tired_ he looked.  His eyes, normally glittering sapphires, appeared dull and lifeless.  His skin looked paler and the way he stood before her, she was certain his very bones _ached_.

Allura watched as his armor creaked when he took a deep, laborious breath, his eyes dropping away from her.  Fatigue cloaked him like a second suit of armor – she was nearly certain he was on the verge of collapse, and yet he pressed on.

“I… just wanted to let you know I’ve returned,” he murmured.  _Stars,_ she thought as even his voice fractured.  The darkness that took his face nearly undid her entirely.

He turned back to the door.

“Lotor,” she said quickly, sitting up to stop him before he left.  He stilled and glanced back to her, the hint of a curious spark flickering in his eyes at his name on her lips.

Allura smiled warmly at the rekindling light and she leaned back into the pillows behind her.  Gently, she raised both her arms toward him.

“Rest,” she beckoned him to her.

He faced her fully, his eyes widening significantly at the invitation.  He stared as if unsure what she had just offered.

“Come, rest with me,” she encouraged again, her arms still aloft in a half-embrace, slender digits reaching toward him.

Transfixed, his eyes never left hers. One foot fell before the other as he approached.  Her throat constricted as his shields fell away, leaving a frightened, unguarded look on his face. 

_He’s afraid._

She masked her surprise, realizing he was studying her intently.

“It’s alright,” she murmured as he paused at the foot of her bed, staring down at the gentle princess with her offer of compassion.  “It is safe,” she added.

“Stars,” he croaked out, his eyelids falling closed.  Lotor allowed one knee to bend, resting on the foot of the bed.

With the very last of his strength, he pushed forward toward her and collapsed into the softness at her side, reveling in the sensation of her arms gently bringing him closer.  One arm wound around his torso, the other laced up his back and threaded her fingers into his hair.

Lotor buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, pressing into the softness of her dress and skin. Allura’s touch was both light and comforting, but also promised strength and protection.  Her cheek pressed to the top of his head, her fingertips deftly stroking through his silken strands.  She exhaled in relief.

_He was **safe**._

Allura released his chest to grasp at the many blankets littering around them and tugged the fabric around his body, nestling him into a cocoon of security.  She continued to brush through his hair tenderly as her hand rubbed in slow circles on his shoulder.

“I’m afraid I’ve brought my armor to your bed, Allura,” he murmured against her.  She felt a shudder roll through him as if he meant to stand, but grappled with the strength to do so.

“It’s fine,” she insisted, reaching up to stroke the cusp of his ear lightly.  Lotor exhaled into her, completely relaxing the last of his strength into the fierce warrior at his side.  Warmth bubbled through him from their contact.  As he melted into the surreal sensation of comfort, a striking thought stilled his heart before restarting it in double time.

He _trusted_ her. 

He trusted that she would never hurt him.  Lotor realized if she ever did – the physical pain would be inconsequential compared to the grief that would follow. It dawned on the Emperor that despite his strength, endurance and intellect, in violent contempt of his armor and shields… she had slipped beneath it all.

“Allura,” he grasped at her name, the panic rolling through his veins at the revelation.  She felt the shift in him and stilled in the gentle touches through his hair.

“You are safe.”

Her affirmation nearly shattered him apart.

Lotor yielded back against her for the final time, feeling his body tremble.  Fire and frost ripped him apart and he welcomed the blessed dichotomy.  He truly _felt_ something after so long.  The siren in his mind sounded; calling to him to abandon that which could be a weapon against him.  Too much had been taken, even more had been lost. 

_Not her._

Strength and softness were born of the same woman.  Lotor was terrified by the utter verity that he _could not_ leave her. 

“Are you well?”

Weakly, he tilted his had up to meet her gaze as her delicate fingers brushed the hair from his eyes.  Concern marred her prismatic irises as her thumb brushed away a droplet of moisture from the corner of his eye. He hadn’t even felt it form.

How could he possibly explain in words how she had touched him?  Throughout the entire universe, all the wonders between Oriande and back – there was none that matched her.  None ever would.

“Yes,” he whispered, a fragile, hesitant smile breaking across his lips as he watched her snuggle in closer, drawing her body to his when he was too exhausted to move.

“Good,” she praised, trailing her knuckles across his cheek softly.  He closed his eyes with another blissful exhale.  “Rest,” she reassured him.

_Veneration._

It was the last sensation to flood him as he slipped into sweet unconsciousness. He allowed all his defenses to fall away and embrace the aegis she offered.

Allura watched him intently as his breathing pattern evened out.  Once certain the man had finally allowed himself to decouple from his discipline and slip into quietude, she retook her gentle stroking of his hair.

“What nightmares must you have endured to show such fear to touch another,” she murmured, placing her lips to the top of his head.  “No more,” she promised.  “No more nightmares.”

Allura closed her own eyes, bowed over him, arms remaining strong around his frame.  She couldn’t articulate precisely when or specifically how deep she had become entangled with the Emperor.  In only a couple phoebs, he had shifted from lethal adversary to informant and ally.  Movements later, he had integrated himself just as much into the team as any of the Paladins.

_But he was more._

She naturally worried for Keith when he was gone with the Blades and their missions.  Concern fluttered through her whenever any of her teammates were in an uncertain predicament.

But Allura had hardly slept while Lotor was away.  Nervousness had settled into her very being in a manner she was wholly unused to and completely unprepared for.  She could barely admit it to herself, but it went beyond their obvious need for an alliance between the coalition and the Galra Empire; far greater than the concern for the chaos and destruction that would happen if he were taken from the throne. 

It was him.

Not the Emperor.  Not the politically-pragmatic ally.

It was _Lotor_.

Allura had realized that she had never been away from him for more than a few vargas since they first met.  When he left to attend to matters within the Empire, the crippling coldness in his wake shocked her.  Her arms tightened subtly around his sleeping frame as if to reassure herself that he truly was back and healthy.

_Thank the stars._

The heavy weight of his frame and armor on her body was a hearty and fulfilling comfort – reminding her he was whole and well.  The princess did all she could to keep the tears of giddy relief from flooding her face.  Allura hadn’t even realized how frightened she had been at the prospect of losing him until he had returned.

_How did I let this go so far?_   She frowned sadly down at him, her chest cracking slightly at the prospect that it was possible he might have been lost.  Movements of stress and anxiety flooded from Allura as his scent encompassed and comforted her.  In his sleep, his fingers curled into the fabric of her dress with tentative softness.  She smiled.

Perhaps it was time to at last sort out that which had danced between them since before Oriande.  While she was anxious to know exactly where she stood in the eyes of the man who willingly curled into her offered embrace, it could wait a little longer.

Holding him against her, comforted by the hum of his slow breathing and the resting rate of his heartbeat against her, she exhaled into his hair.

Everything that mattered was safe.

At last, Allura could allow herself to rest. 


End file.
